Welcome to Gaia! ::

Howie perched on a low wall that bordered a fairly well-lit city street. He was alone and the street was empty - not unusual for this time of night. He shivered in the late spring air, glancing mournfully at the remainder of an ice-cream cone that he suddenly wished he hadn't eaten.

He was between jobs, and therefore between houses. His cash was running low, and it wasn't cold enough yet to justify wasting it on a motel room. He grunted and tossed the cone at a nearby trashcan, not really caring that it missed.

Howie jumped like a startled mouse at the man's appearance, but managed to keep his seat on the wall. He adopted an easy grin, a bit strained from his nerved. "Ain't it a bit late for you t' be out, pops?" He retorted, falling into the familiar accents of your average street kid. Hey, he would stay a teenager for as long as he darn well pleased, 22 or no.

"I'd say the same for you, junior," Sid snapped in response. He shook his head, looked back to the pieces of paper left in his hand, and resumed unfolding them without a thought of apologizing. Another is dropped, then another, and...

"Hell yeah!"

He let the other scraps fall and held a slightly wet napkin up in triumph. A number is scribbled on it, along with an imprint of lips in bright pink lipstick.

"Victory is mine," he said, refolding the napkin and gingerly tucking it away in his inner coat pocket. "Of course, I shouldn't have been so careless as to throw it away in the first place, but all's well..."

The arrival of the new girl gave him some pause- or made him forget what else he was going to say, anyway.

"Hello?"

"I uh... Hello!"

She said, rather awkwardly. She hadn't expected to be greeted with such enthusiasm. At least they seemed nice and didn't glare at her like most people seemed to enjoy doing. She forced a small smile, taking a fleeting glance up at both men before looking down at the ground again. She hated making eye contact; it was like someone could steal her soul if their eyes met. It was a silly notion, and she knew that. Promptly, a civil war started within her own mind. Should she leave it at that and walk off? Or should she stay get acquainted with these two? The latter part won for the moment.

Howie smirked a bit and snorted. "At least that makes me Don Juan Triumphant," he replied easily, then he slid off the wall and landed soundly on his oversized feet. He took a moment to brush himself off, then straightened up and held a hand out.

"But really, the name's Howie Carmichael. Heh, this night is turning out right strange. Gangs I can see, but gals and old dudes?" His voice and manner seemed to be a little less city and a little more educated than what he had first let on, but the cockey grin and his boyish appearance diminished the effect considerabley.

She stared at the outstretched hand, seeming to not know what to do with it. Either that or she forgot. She looked quickly up Howie's face, avoiding his eyes. She could see that the man was putting on a show -for her it looked like- and she was flattered. Never had she seen anyone do that in front of her, but than again she was rarely around people.

"I like walking the outskirts of town; I usually bring one of my dogs with me for protection... 'guess I didn't this time."

She explained, seeing that there might need to be an explanation for why she was out on the streets alone.

Sid watched Howie at work and... refrains from comment. "He's got a good point there... Me, I need to make a phone call. If pay phones even exist anymore."

With a shake of his head he moved away from the two in search of a payphone. Whether or not he returned all depended on the reaction of the woman he was about to call...

((bowing out for the time being, too busy to keep up))

Howie watched Sid leave with a sharp eye. He hoped that the man was just leaving to try the numbers he had found on those napkins, and wasn't going to do anything rash like call the cops or something. But then again he didn't think that he'd pissed anyone here off enough yet for that kind of reaction to be plausible.

He noted that the girl was cold, but he didn't exactly have much to offer in the way of a coat. Oh well, her problem for walking around in the cold in that outfit.

"Oh, certainly," he answered in an enthusiatic tone. "You just have to know when to take the hits and when to run. It's not like I have much to steal." He shrugged. Muggings happened all the time, and usually the toughs ignored the street kids worse off than they were. Of course there were other reasons to be interested in a young girl.